Without a Word

To hold against this.

yellow and white smoke during night time

Fire from the sky, man thunders again.

Why do you scream? 

To check that I still live. 

Hold your head. This will hurt.

Ground is what trembles us.

Will you go under it?

Is that where it trembles less?

No. The windows will shatter next.

See the child, carried through smoke.

Children take the blasts for granted,

learn to wait between them.

We cry out, throwing signs against

the noise when we see no target.

What is another word for too much? 

We try blood, fire, smoke.

We try terror, revenge, help. 

Oh God, we say, touching a wound.

Oh God, we say, unable to keep

from testing for some other now.

Author: Stacey C. Johnson

I keep watch and listen, mostly in dark places.

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